Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
---
The screams that echoed around his head was like banshee wailing. All he wanted to do was escape the bloody red talons of madnees that was tearing on his intestines, giving him horrible cramps. Harry drank bottle after bottle of butterbeer, and soon he was going "Hic! Hic! Hic!" and the room seemed to be spinning wildly around.
It was not his fault that all the people around him were idiots. They could not reelaise his heart's fragileness still existed in his body and mind and soul. They make him fight fight fight with all the bad guys, and save the world. But he was the one who needed help. The anger and madness was like death and disease, waste and water. It seeped into brain and caused his heart to deteriorate and get eaten away and eroded. On the outside, Harry tried to be happy-go-lucky and bright and cheery, but on the inside all was really grey and miserable. But seriously couldn't anybody SEE that he only smiled and nodded at their treveal conversation? Well, he always did, but couldn't they see his reaction rate was like, slower? And couldn't they realise from there that he was unhappy?)
Harry found that he had wandered down into the potions room. There he found his potions dagger for cutting roots. He banged his head against the wall. Wow, he was really getting stupider. Then, he realised how beautiful and shiny the dagger was, and maybe, if he stuck it into his gut, he'd finally be clean on the inside as well.
---
LIKE ZOMG! R AND R!
